Acsension
by minaviolet44
Summary: Demons are real. So are angels, and gods, and vampires and werewolves. Apparently, aliens are too. Will not interfere majorly with either show's canon.
1. In which I tell my story

The day my parents died started out as an average day.

I'll start by explaining my family. You see, I'm adopted—I'm not it saying it hurt any less when my parents died because they weren't my blood parents, but either way—I'm not blood-related to my family.

I also have an older brother—he actually is their blood son. He isn't one of those children that get jealous of their siblings—he's always been nice to me, sometimes bordering on overprotective (I'm not even allowed to crush on boys!)

I have no memories from before I was four—no memories of my blood parents or family, or history, nothing. All I have left of whoever I was then is a broken silver pocket watch. My earliest memory is of the orphanage I lived in until I was five.

That was when Kelly and Nate Carson, along with their four-year-old son Jake, decided to adopt me. Kelly had always planned for two kids—a boy and a girl—but complications during her first birth rendered her infertile.

That was where they got the idea to just adopt. It was even better that it was me, because I had no memories of any prior family and they would be the only family I'd ever had.

I loved my family, because the orphanage was lonely and because they were so warm. They were sunshine on a cold day.

And so I lived with them in suburban New York for the next ten years, and went to elementary, then middle, then high school. I grew up a little isolated, because of the fact that it was sort of obvious I was adopted, considering I was blonde and blue-eyed, while the rest of my family was brunette and brown-eyed.

Because of this, I walked home alone from another ridiculously stressing day of high school, on a lukewarm September day. Sophomore year was overly stressing, and occasionally I wished I could just stop.

They say to be careful what you wish for.

When I opened the door to my house, I was hit with the intense smell of…iron?

It was terrible. I mean, considering I lived in New York, I'd smelled worse things, but this just made me sick. I quickly walked towards the living room, gagging...

…And stopped at the large puddle of red that spilled out from the entrance. My first thought was that it was blood.

Yeah, I know, paranoid, right? But can you blame me? My favorite book series was _Supernatural_ , and my favorite TV show was _Sherlock_. My mind was a naturally bloody place. Of course I knew all of that wasn't real, but I was still a diehard fan.

I don't know if I regret that now, or if I thank my lucky stars the random book I decided to buy on a whim in a bookstore happened to be _Supernatural_.

Careful to avoid stepped on whatever the red stuff was, I walked to the front of the entrance.

The scene that greeted me was inappropriately morbid for the sunlight streaming in through the windows. My father lay on a couch, his eyes wide open, his blue shirt red with blood—or rather, purple. My mother lay on the floor next to him, her white dress ripped and equally red, her face a mask of fear.

My brother stood over them, his green hoodie spattered with blood, his back to me and a bloody steak knife in his hand.


	2. In which I exorcise a demon

I'm a normal person. So my next reaction was appropriately normal. I went into shock. Not the hyperventilating sort of shock—the type of shock where your mind just shuts down and you just sort of stare in disbelief.

Because how could—why would—why would Jake kill my parents? _His_ parents? The entire thing was ridiculous—this kind of psychotic breakdown happened to other people, people who showed signs, had terrible backstories—not to perfectly ordinary suburban New Yorkers.

Then Jake turned around. He looked at me, his eyes meeting mine, and he _grinned_.

He _grinned_ at me.

"You're back, Essie! Been waiting for you, cutie!" He leered at me.

 _'Oh ew, is he_ flirting _!?'_

That was, hilariously enough, the thought that pulled me out of my shock long enough for my survival instincts to kick in. That, and the fact that his eyes had _flicked black as he'd spoken._

I was a diehard fan of _Supernatural,_ so of course I had all of the exorcisms memorized.

I hoped that maybe it was just me hallucinating from terror, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure—the fact that he's stopped to speak to me meant that he wasn't planning on killing me immediately, and if it was just my brother, then it would serve to confuse him, at least.

" _Exorcizamus te,_ " I began, and Jake's eyes widened. His grin began to fade.

" _..omnis immundus spiritus,"_ I continued and he began to walk towards me, slowly, as if he were playing with me. I decided now would be a good time to speed it up.

" _Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio..."_

 _'He definitely looks unhappy now. Shit this can't be happening to me!'_

 _"…infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,  
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.  
Ergo draco maledicte  
et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te!"_

Jake let out a growl, his eyes fully black—it wasn't an illusion, even his sclera were black, and a puff of black smoke escaped his mouth. I backed away as I continued to chant.

"… _cessa decipere humanas creaturas,_  
 _eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.  
Vade, Satana, inventor et magister_  
 _omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis!"_

He actually bent on one knee as I kept going, and more black smoke escaped his mouth. I realized that now that as I backed away, suddenly stepping in my parents' blood wasn't nearly as terrifying as the other option—standing there and just dying.

" _Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,_  
 _contremisce et effuge, invocato a_  
 _nobis sancto et terribili nomine,_  
 _quem inferi tremunt!"_

I began the process of making a devil's trap—I probably wouldn't finish it, but the blood was there, and anything to make sure I didn't get killed. Death by demon at fifteen was just cruel.

My brother—no, _not_ my brother, the _demon_ , and how scary was that?—had begun to convulse, and the smoke that came out of him was becoming thicker. I didn't pause in my chant.

" _Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine._  
 _Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire  
te rogamus, audi nos.  
Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,  
te rogamus, audi nos." _

_'Almost there! Just a little bit more, please, just lay on th ground in pain like that, you stupid demon, and please don't kill me—'_

 _"Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo!_

 _Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem  
et fortitudinem plebi Suae!_"

The demon reached out for me from the ground, with the hand that held the steak knife, but I made sure my voice didn't trembled as I stared the thing dead in the eyes and finished the exorcism.

 _"Benedictus deus. Gloria patri!"_

It screamed and black smoke flew out in droves from my brother's mouth, heading towards the red-orange hellfire image that appeared below my brother's body. I could do nothing but stare. This was _real._

My brother had been possessed by an actual, biblical, _demon_ and killed my parents and I'd just _exorcised it._

' _Does this make me a hunter?_ ' I though, in a sort of delirium.

When the screaming finally ended, all that lay there was my brother's body. All I wanted to do was run away screaming, but I forced myself to walk to him and check that he was alive.

If he was alive, it meant that he'd been trapped inside his own body that whole time, and watched as a demon used his body to murder his family and toy with his sister. He might not even be sane anymore. But he was Jake, he was all I had left, and that meant I needed to take care of him—of both of us, because there was no way we could stay.

He had a pulse, so I dragged his body to the door, then carefully opened it, looking around for passerby. It was times like then that were the reason I was grateful for suburban housing—the neighborhood was always quiet, and rarely did you ever see people.

I continued dragging his body, stuffing my hand in his pocket and pulling out his car keys. Unlocking the car, I stuffed him in the backseat. I wondered if I should get my parents, too.

Then I thought better of it—we didn't have time for that, and though I wanted to make sure that they at least were properly honored, I also didn't want my brother arrested for first degree murder. I ran back into the house and grabbed the knife—better to hide all the evidence I could, then stuffed as much of the kitchen as possible and my brother's hiking supplies. I grabbed my mom's purse and Dad's wallet, too.

I know I sound cruel, but my only focus was survival and escape. My parents were dead and gone—I couldn't bring them back, and now that I knew _Supernatural_ was real, they were probably happier in Heaven anyway.

Their stuff wouldn't help them, but they would want me and my brother to live. And I'd make sure that would happen.


	3. In which I become a criminal

I dragged the rather large duffel bag all of the survival supplies were in to the passenger seat and practically threw them in there. Running to the driver's seat, I started the car up with single-minded urgency.

My brother had been teaching me how to drive, since I'd been pegged to take the test for my learning permit in a few months, so I knew the basics. I didn't have enough practice to be a good driver, though.

I drove like a madman, turning on the GPS my dad always had plugged into the car, and heading towards the most uninhabited area, and a location where there would be no authorities.

I was lucky that day, now that I think about it. There were multiple times I could've been caught, but I hadn't been. Once I felt that we were a sufficiently safe distance, I did the only thing I could think of—I called for help.

You're probably wondering how exactly I could've called for help. Simple—I went on the Internet and did a search for any _Bobby Singer_ s living in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

I mean, I didn't expect for him to just show up on Yellow Pages, but anything, even a phone number, would have been okay with me. My brother was still unconscious—the jury was still up on whether he'd even wake up at this point, or whether demon possession had put him in a permanent coma.

My lucky streak hadn't run out yet. I chanced upon a dinky-looking website after wading through a few pages of Google results. It didn't have any pictures, but the title had hunters in it, and there was a phone number. It was all I had to go on, because me and my brother alone?

Against, shapeshifters and demons and vampires and whatever the hell else is out there?

We'd be dead or eaten in seconds. Images of my parents' bodies flashed through my mind. I wondered if anyone had found them yet. I hoped not—because the longer it took for the neighbors to notice, the more time we had to escape.

The phone number worked. A gruff old man's voice answered when the dial tone ended.

"Hello?" I prayed for this guy to be Bobby. Or even just a random hunter—anyone who could help.

I breathed in.

"Is this Bobby?" I asked.

"Who's askin'?" His voice was filled with suspicion—of course it was, I was a random girl he didn't know, _I_ could've been a demon for all he knew.

I spoke in a hurry so he didn't interrupt me. I needed to get it all out before I chickened out.

"I'm Esther Carlson, my brother just got possessed by a demon and killed my mom and dad and I exorcised it because I read the _Supernatural_ books and had the demon exorcism memorized and now I don't know where I am and I don't know what to do and I heard of the books and I thought maybe I could try to contact you and please help me, I'm not a demon and my brother won't wake up and—"

"Calm down, girl!" The voice on the phone had softened slightly—the edge of suspicion was gone, at least. "You said you read the _Supernatural_ books?"

"Y-yes," I answer, and wince at the stutter in my voice. I guessed the reality of my situation was finally starting to hit me.

"Where are ya right now?"

"Uhh…somewhere in New York, near a forest, I used a GPS, uhhh…Seton Falls Park?" I definitely didn't recognize that. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea where I was. I'd driven for the better part of a day, occasionally in circles, and it was evening now, so my surroundings were completely unknown to me.

"Well, then." Bobby seemed a little surprised. "The boys are on a hunt there…" This part was spoken in a mutter, probably not meant for me to hear. "Said they were huntin' a demon…"

I froze. No. No. _No._

My parents had _not_ just become a casualty in a hunt.

I couldn't believe it. If this was a _Supernatural_ book, I'd be the single-scene minor character who nobody really cares about. My parents would just be more additions to the dead side characters pile. My brother would just be the poor sucker who got fucked over by a demon.

I wanted to scream. ' _Why me,'_ I thought. ' _WHY ME!?'_

"I'll send 'em over to ya," Bobby said, interrupting my thoughts.

 _'I'm going to meet Sam and Dean,'_ I thought, but no joy came up. Why would it, looking at the type of situation we'd meet in?


	4. In which I meet Sam and Dean

I didn't sleep, instead opting to stay awake and wait for my brother to wake up. It wasn't as if I could have slept anyway, considering what I had just been through. I was far too terrified.

It was a few hours later I heard the sound of a car slowing down near mine. I had already opened the driver's seat door and been sitting outside on the asphalt for a while, and now I reached in and grabbed the steak knife.

The car stopped—its silhouette vaguely resembled the image of the Impala I'd seen on the cover of the books—and two men climbed out.

From where the passenger's seat should've been came a ridiculously tall man. I assumed this was Sam. He'd been described as tall in the books, but this gave that a whole new meaning. Six foot four wasn't a joke. From the other side of the car came a shorter man—Dean. I said shorter, but that didn't in any way mean that he was short.

He was six feet at least, and that still topped my five feet four by at least a head. I prayed again that I wasn't doing something stupid.

 _'Something smart to say, something that'll make sure I'm safe…'_

"Christo!" I said loudly, pointing my flashlight and knife at them. Their eyes didn't turn black. Actually, they just seemed a bit surprised.

"You're Esther?" Sam asked.

"Depends. You're Sam and Dean?"

Dean looked at me suspiciously. "How'd you know us?"

I blinked. "The books. The _Supernatural_ books. Bobby didn't tell you?"

Both of them groaned—simultaneously.

"Better not be a damn fangirl," Dean grumbled, and I felt slightly offended.

"Bobby just said he'd found someone who knew where the demon was," Sam said to me, "we assumed it was another hunter."

"I'm not," I said, "but it's in Hell now."

Dean's suspicious look was back, and I quickly explained. Didn't want them thinking I was a witch or something. I'd be dead before I knew it.

"I, uh, memorized the exorcism from the books. For fun. The demon was playing with me," I paused. "Didn't expect me to do what I did, I think."

They both looked surprised now. Huh. I'd surprised Sam and Dean twice in a day. I wondered if that was a record for an ordinary human.

"Who'd you lose?" Dean said. His voice was gruff, but not as coldly suspicious as it had been earlier.

I swallowed. "It possessed my brothers. Killed my parents. My brother's unconscious, in there," I pointed to the backseat of the car.

Dean looked at the car almost disapprovingly—right, it was a Toyota—and Sam looked at me sympathetically.

"We'll take you with us to Bobby's," he said, and I could've hugged him. Dean nodded, and told me to get my stuff.

Then he and Sam dragged my unconscious brother into the backseat of the Impala, and I dragged my duffle bag next to him, and packed myself into the back of the car.

Sam and Dean entered the car, shutting the doors loudly enough for me to flinch a bit. Dean started up the car and to my surprise, didn't immediately begin to play some sort of rock music. I was thankful.

I didn't think I could've take it right now.


	5. In which I try to cope

The drive to Bobby's was long, taking almost all night and half the next day, and mostly quiet, aside from Sam urging me to sleep. I did, but only because I felt safer then I had for a while.

Though these two were grown men that I barely knew, they were experts in what they did, and that was reassuring enough for me. They could keep me safe.

Midway through the drive, I asked—well, more like stuttered—if there was anything to eat. At this point the shock had passed me over, and left an empty hole of a stomach.

I realized I hadn't eaten since eleven the day before. I hadn't brushed my teeth for a day either, and I smelled. Hopefully Bobby had a shower. And wasn't that funny, that I wasn't even upset about having to shower at some old guy's house?

Dean chose then to stop for a gas refill, and I tentatively called out to Sam. These people were sort of larger than life to me—I was socially stunted to begin with, it would take a lot for me to open up to them.

"Sam," I said, and he turned to me. Now that it was day, I could actually catalog how the brothers looked. They were…embarrassingly handsome. Sam had mid-parted light brown hair, reaching past his ears, and a stern-looking face, though his eyes were gentle, ruining any harshness his expression could've had.

Dean's face was the sort of face that should've looked young, but was ruined by the haunted look in his shockingly green eyes and stress lines covering his face.

"I, uh, need to buy things…" I paused, wondering if I was overstepping my boundaries, then plowed on, since I'd already started and it'd make no difference. "…Girl things."

Both of them cringed.

"Sammy," Dean practically hissed, "you're the girl here, you go with her." Then he shoved a wallet into Sam's hands.

I climbed out of the car with my dad's wallet in my own hands, and turned to Sam.

"You don't need to use your money, I have my own," I started, but Sam interrupted me, looking a little amused.

"You don't need to," he said, and I blinked.

' _Why wouldn't I…?'_ "Oh, credit card scams!" I said.

Sam winced. "Not so loud."

"Right," I said embarrassedly.

I walked into the nearest general store and went to the toiletries aisle, grabbing a pair of toothbrushes, an underwear set, a few T-shirts, sweatpants, and a box of pads, trying not to get embarrassed at the fact that I was doing this as a grown man stood nearby.

As Sam used the fake credit card, I looked out the glass windows at Dean. I wondered what the two brothers though of me. They were nearly thirty, and I was a teenage girl—I must've looked like a little kid to them.

Sam then took me to a nearby deli, and I noticed that they had actual pie in stock.

"Can we get pie?" I asked, pointing to the apple pie. Sam bought it, along with a few cups of yogurt and a…fruit salad? Okay then…I suppose he was just being healthy. Ew, though.

When I was back in the car, Dean looked to Sam with slight hope in his eyes.

"Pie?" He asked. I raised the bag in my hand in response. He grinned boyishly, the haunted look in his eyes disappearing for a second, and I tentatively smiled in response.

The pie was good. But maybe that was just my overwhelming hunger speaking.


End file.
